


In Neglected Fields, the Fern Grows

by lastviolet



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Relationship(s), Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastviolet/pseuds/lastviolet
Summary: Fern Longbottom has always been at odds with the Weasley twins. She's spent most of her seven years at Hogwarts thwarting their pranks as a Prefect or falling victim to them. When she finds her brother in their company after hours, she grows suspicious, assuming the worst about them trying to indoctrinate Neville into their world of quips, pranks, and jokes. This leads her on an investigation, and inadvertently, into the arms of Fred Weasley. Will he reaffirm her assumptions about him, or turn her world, and outlook, completely upsidedown?
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. The Seventh-Floor Mystery

How someone in the wizarding world hadn’t come up with a spell to mimic the brief high of a cigarette puff, Fern Longbottom had no clue. Being a witch would finally feel worth it if she could blast herself at least once every ten minutes to feel momentary relief instead of having to climb the god-awful moving staircase to smoke one cigarette in the Astronomy tower before she was missed by the other Prefect on rounds. 

Not that they even needed her. Prefect duties had become much easier ever since Umbridge had taken over as the unofficial authority at Hogwarts. These days, nary a soul, besides the dead ones wandered the halls after hours, for fear of peeving off the menace in pink. She didn’t much mind the strict witch’s presence, but then again, she wasn’t exactly in the line of fire, nor was anyone else in Ravenclaw. The only thing that did make her roll her eyes was that almost all of her duties and responsibilities had been bequeathed to undeserving Slytherins on the Inquisitional Squad. They were a pack of eager dogs, desperate to bring their master the best corpse. At least when she gave someone detention, it was rather painless and they actually deserved it. 

Thankfully, she hadn’t run into anyone who deserved it tonight. Not that she’d mind the company. Every hall she had passed on the way up the dizzying stairs, was empty. That was one thing she did miss from the time before Umbridge. Usually, there would be absolute chaos in every corner of the dark seventh-floor hallway but tonight, it was silent.

She skirted through the hall, ignoring the hairs on the back of her neck, reminding her of how dark and empty the hallway was. Without light pollution from civilizations nearby, nighttime at Hogwarts was deep and unrelenting until morning. Even in the castle, candles and fireplaces couldn’t illuminate the stone rooms enough to fully ward off the hours of shadow. To make matters worse, she’d noticed in her tenure as Prefect that in the evenings, without company or companion, the cobble architecture swallowed sound. Footsteps, words, laughter, and voices dissipated upon utterance without a crowd to overpower the course sandstone abyss. She didn’t normally like the quiet, in any capacity, but especially in the castle that could easily swallow her whole with various secret halls, doors, and chambers. 

Even at home, quiet was no good. If Neville wasn’t rambling on about Herbology or Gran wasn’t lecturing her brother about speaking too fast or walking too slow, the air felt thick. It clung to her limbs, and filled her lungs, and brought her thoughts to a standstill. The emptiness that followed, before sound rushed back in, froze her. She’d read a quote once, walking out of St. Mungos after a particularly somber visit to her parents that said, ‘for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.’ Whatever abyss Nietzsche was referring to, she doubted that he knew what real emptiness felt like. 

You didn’t look at it, and it didn’t look at you. It was an extension of consciousness; unrelenting and irremovable. Emptiness was a hospital room with people who couldn’t recognize you. Emptiness was seeing the same careless bravery that had gotten them there in her brother who seemed too eager for war. Emptiness was being powerless to change any of it. After a while, she’d didn’t feel so empty anymore, realizing that she’d simply become the abyss. 

Now, it took up a corner of her mind, whispering evil things and infuriating questions with no answer. Every action had an equal reaction, and she was powerless to control every single one, not for lack of trying, as it liked to remind her. Every glance in the mirror, conversation in her head, and silent moment was tainted by this ache with no relief, other than the few times a week she got to smoke a cigarette. 

She briefly closed her eyes as she walked, quelling the downward mental spiral by focusing on the crisp scent of fall turning into winter as it drifted in from the tower at the end of the hall. She imagined herself amongst the trees somewhere warm and beautiful, like Italy. The heat from the lone fireplace to her right acted as the artificial seaside sun. The crackling log was a babbling brook and she couldn’t hear her own footsteps because she was barefoot in the grass. Her lips pulled into a soft smile. She was content until she heard footsteps. 

She jumped and opened her eyes frantically as a very familiar figure appeared ten feet in front of her.

“Nev?” She half shouted.

“Oh hi,” he squeaked out, looking behind his right shoulder, around a corner she couldn’t see.

She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain why he was out of his dorm so late but he just stood, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Hi… uh what are you doing up here?” 

She watched as he jumped a little at her question, clearly uncomfortable with her suspicious tone. In recent years, her younger brother had become more akin to rule-breaking but sneaking around after dark wasn’t usually his style.

He glanced over his shoulder again and took a few frantic footsteps towards her as if he was trying to herd her back down the hall. 

“Erm…nothing,” he worried. “I was in the uh tower.”

His words slurred with the speed and she took sweeping steps to meet him before he got too far away from whatever it was that he seemed to be hiding. 

“Nev,” she said slowly. “In the tower…doing what?”

He didn’t seem to register her question so she snapped her fingers in front of his face, bringing his consciousness back down to earth.

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you keep looking around like that?”

“Um…I’m just uh waiting —"

“For…?” 

As if on cue, more voices appeared, loud and bouncing, out of thin air. 

“Who is that?”

He looked down at his shoes, content to have her discover his counterparts on her own. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to actually hand out a detention, she breezed past him and towards the sound. 

She made it three steps before Fred and George Weasley stepped around the corner and looked down at her, in shock, as if she was the one who had appeared out of nowhere. The evening was already a headache, but it was well on its way to turning into a migraine.

Before they could speak, she pounced. 

“What are you doing?” Her voice was cruel and seeping with blame, directed at two of her least favorite people.

From as far back as she could remember, nearly seven years now, the three of them hadn’t gotten along. The twins were intolerable, annoying, and self-centered. There was no joke, prank, or quip that could ever really be enough to fuel their egos so they always went too far, too fast, making the entirety of the study body accomplices and victims to their antics. Although, it hadn’t been until her brother’s unfortunate friendship with the twins that she’d started to harbor real hatred for them.

“Hey,” Fred called down the hall behind her towards Neville, pointing wildly, avoiding her accusatory stare. “Look Longbottom, it’s Longbottom!”

“A family reunion,” George added, clapping his hands together. “How touching.”

Fred’s eyes twinkled at her sour look. “Out for an evening stroll?”

She rolled her eyes. “I asked you a question.”

“Oh c’mon Longbottom, no need to be so hostile, I’m only making small talk,” Fred cooed. “Y’know like, how’s your evening? How was your day? Are you —”

“Enough, you fucking half-whit. Why are you up here?”

George smiled big at her instantaneous anger but it was Fred who stepped closer and spoke again with a more threatening tone.

“Not quite, but you’ve almost got the hang of it. You’re supposed to answer someone’s question before you ask one of your own, it’s polite.”

“So answer it,” she retorted, closing the last few inches between them.

“You first,” he said with a scowl, relishing in her contempt. “How is your evening?”

“Abysmal, thanks to you.”

“It always seems to be that way when we’re together, Longbottom. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re the problem?”

“Funny,” she hissed. “I would beg to differ”

“You? Beg? Now that would make for a lovely evening. Go on then,” Fred taunted, looming over her with his usual pretentious sneer. 

She glared at him, fuming, and ignored Neville’s plea behind her to just leave it alone. 

“Alright, we should really be off now,” George yawned, stretching his arms over his head for dramatic effect. “Longbottom family, it’s been lovely.”

Fred bared his teeth as if to gloat and brushed her shoulder with force as he followed his brother towards the stairs. She glanced at Neville for backup but he gave her a miserable shrug. Discontent with the outcome, she spun around and grabbed Fred by the arm.

“For fucks sake, just tell me what you’re doing up here or I’ll give you a detention!”

He whipped around with a fire in his eyes and clamped a hand down on her wrist. 

“Ask. Your. Brother,” he hissed through clenched teeth, blazingly serious as he yanked her arm up close to her face.

Neville let out a little gasp at the outburst but she just hardened her glare.

She yanked her hand from his. “Charming.”

Fred didn’t let her finish the word before he stalked away in a huff, tapping Neville on the shoulder as if to say good luck. The less volatile twin shot her an apologetic look before disappearing down the stairs after his brother. 

Despite having gotten used to Fred Weasley’s short fuse and erratic temper, her heart nearly beat out of her chest. She’d been the reason for many an outburst, from detention slips to thwarted pranks over the years, none having been quite this tame. If they’d been alone, she liked to think that she might have accosted him back. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

Neville came up behind her, radiating with nerves. 

“Really, Fern,” he stuttered. “It’s fine…I just had astronomy homework.”

“Don’t lie to me, Nev,” she accused, probably louder than she needed to. 

“Honest, we were just studying!” 

“Oh give it a rest, those two have never studied a day in their lives! They’re nothing but trouble. What are you thinking, letting them drag you into something sure to get you on Umbridge’s bad side?”

“I’m already on her bad side,” he mumbled. “So it doesn’t really matter if —”

“Well then you can’t really afford to make it any worse, can you? I mean hanging out with the Weasley twins after hours is one of the stupidest things I can think of. You’re smarter than this!”

“They’re my friends, it’s nothing —”

“Some friends they are, Neville. Honestly, what could you possibly expect from hanging out with them, besides trouble? You’re lucky that it was me that you ran into tonight, and not another Prefect, or worse. How could you be so —”

“You aren’t my mum, Fern… I can look out for myself,” he squeaked in a small, but stern voice. 

She stopped talking immediately, struck by his sudden gumption. The twins had definitely gotten to him. Normally, he would’ve at least given her the benefit of the doubt and _listened_ to her advice. She furrowed her brow when he glanced up, still looking nervously at the hallway behind her. 

“You should get back to your common room,” she sighed finally, unwilling to fight and elongate the portion of the evening without any nicotine in her system. “It’s late.”

“Alright,” he said, nodding a little more energetically now that she’d stalled her lecture. “See you later?”

“Yeah….see you later.”

He sped off down the hall, probably keen to catch up with his so-called friends. She cursed Fred to high heaven as she scaled the astronomy tower stairs, stopping briefly to retrieve a cigarette from the school stash, underneath a floorboard below the telescope. She tucked it between her teeth, used a non-verbal fire spell, and stepped over to the balcony. 

The grounds were fuzzy and dark green beneath the muted moonlight. She stared confused for a moment at the darker than usual, blurred Hogwarts lawn, and then tipped her head upwards. A deep fog blurred the view, making the constellations completely invisible. The moon tried to blaze through the haze but it barely reached the earth’s surface. 

There was no way they got any astrology homework done, she thought, glancing around the room for clues. 

Other than a few cigarette butts, there was nothing. 

She took a drag and watched the smoke commingle with the haze. Nicotine rushed through her head providing momentary dizzying peace and oblivion. This buzz, although brief, was preferable to anything else. Drugs were unobtainable and inconsistent, alcohol lasted too long to be truly relaxing and she could never get the various potion options right. Tobacco gave her the two things that she craved, a tiny ounce of rebellion, and an unoccupied mind. 

She flicked her finished cigarette onto the floor, one final testament to her moment of disobedience for the night, and flitted back down the stairs, eager to be finished with her rounds. 

The hallway was still and dark again as she flew through it. The incident with her brother and his fellow Gryffindors had nearly been forgotten when other voices drifted from the hallway behind her. 

Stunned by their apparition, she turned slowly, trying not to look terrified. 

“Hey Fern,” Padma Patil and Mandy Brocklehurst said in unison, arm in arm, coming around the corner where she’d been a few footsteps ago. 

“Hey…guys,” she responded, looking for an explanation. 

“Prefect rounds?” Padma said, nodding to her house robes after hours. 

“Yeah,” she stammered. 

“That sucks. Almost done though?”

She nodded and watched the girls try and contain their giggles about something she couldn’t see. She glanced down the hall and found it devoid of doors or entrances despite the astronomy tower, where they most certainly were not. 

“Astronomy homework?” She asked them, surrendering to her urges of suspicion. Where had they come from?

“Yep,” Padma replied energetically.

“Lovely evening to see the stars,” she goaded. 

“They were brill,” Mandy chimed in, turning to get her friend to nod in agreement. “Oh, by the way, I think a few people are going to be hanging out in the boy’s dorm later tonight if you wanna come.”

“Wicked,” she responded, faking interest. “Corner and Boot’s room?”

“Yep!”

“Ok, I’ll try and swing by,” she assured them. “You guys better get back though, I don’t know who else has rounds tonight but if it's Abbott, you’re screwed.”

“Shit,” Mandy said. “Is the Inquisitional Squad out tonight too?”

“Haven’t seen them yet but I think they come round at 9.”

“Thanks, Fern, you’re a lifesaver!” Padma whispered, turning to run with her friend, hand in hand. “See you later!”

She watched them run back down towards the moving staircase and then turned to inspect the hall in a daze. She squeezed her eyes tight, imagining a door at the end of the hall but when she opened them, the stone wall remained the same; tall, grey, and empty.

There was no door anywhere. 

Where were all these kids coming from?

The Weasley’s having some secret entrance into the hallway made sense but her housemates and brother didn’t. The mystery motivated her enough to make quick work of the walk back to her common room where she ignored a wave of ‘hello’s from her peers and rushed to her dorm room. 

“Daisy!”

Her roommate jumped two inches off the bed and nearly toppled onto the floor as she rushed in and slammed the door. The tall strawberry blonde stared at her with wide, absent eyes for a moment before relaxing back onto the bed and setting her book on the nightstand. 

“You might be content dying from a stress-induced heart attack at a young age, my love,” she cooed, returning to her easy-going state. “But _I_ , am not. Please exclude me from any further loud and anxious announcements in the —”

“Daisy,” she repeated, ignoring her best friend’s usual long-winded, abstract ramblings. “I think I may have stumbled upon a mystery.”

Daisy gasped and threw a hand over her mouth, smiling wickedly as for one moment Fern thought that she was equally intrigued.

“I’m serious,” Fern said flatly. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she said wistfully. “There is no way that we could know all the goings-on in a castle this old or this large. The mysteries it holds….the mysteries it has been witness to…well that must span centuries. Fern, what do you think was happening in this very room, a century ago?”

“Daisy, _this_ room is not the one that I am concerned about. Will you please listen to me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” her roommate rambled, staring at the door as if she could actually see the ghosts of Ravenclaws past.

“On my Prefect rounds, I went up the astronomy tower—”

“So that you could look up at the night sky and _not_ smoke a cigarette because you promised me that it was simply a fleeting phase of insubordination and not a serious habit?”

She squinted at the suddenly alert girl. “Yes.”

“Lovely, please continue.”

“Well on my way to the tower, Neville appeared out of nowhere with Fred and George Weasley in tow.”

She paused for dramatic effect but continued quickly as Daisy didn’t seem intrigued in the slightest. 

“When I asked what they were doing, the twins wouldn’t say, and Nev gave me some excuse about astronomy homework _but_ when I went up to the tower, the fog made seeing the stars impossible!”

Daisy gave her an exasperated look. “So they were in the tower smoking pot?”

“Ah very clever, my love, but no. See, I would have smelled it either on them or in the tower if that had been the case but there was nothing.”

“Okay…so what were they doing up there?”

“Now _that_ is the mystery. I don’t think they were up there at all.”

Daisy stared at her silently, raising her brow in a combination of confusion and doubt. 

“And here’s why…when I came back down, Padma and Mandy appeared in the hall behind me, looking like they were leaving something, just like Nev and the twins had _but_ they weren’t up in the tower with me.”

“Okay…”

“Daisy, are you hearing me? They said they were doing Astronomy homework, just like Nev. On a cloudy night! Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious that five people appeared out of thin air in a seventh-floor hallway this evening?”

“Well it’s definitely odd but I don’t know if I’d call it suspicious…actually maybe it’s a little abnormal….no….bizarre perhaps?”

“Yes, yes, yes, all of the above,” she said quickly. “What I’m trying to say is that I think they’re up to something.”

“Your brother, the twins, and two Ravenclaws?” 

“Yes.”

“Orgy?”

“Oh Daisy, for fucks sake, don’t put that image in my head.”

“Well, it’s the obvious choice of usage for a secret room in a distant hallway with people who might otherwise consider each other acquaintances.”

“They didn’t look nearly flustered enough for that to be the case and besides, Padma and Mandy couldn’t ever like any of them.”

Daisy nodded like she was pondering.

“And you’re sure they couldn’t just be a study group?”

“Well I mean sure, they could be but _what_ room were they using?” 

“Fern, what time is it?”

“What?”

“The time,” Daisy repeated. 

“8:45, why?”

“So it’s nighttime?”

“Yes…”

“Meaning that it was dark…up there.”

“There are lanterns and fireplaces and moonlight, Daisy, I know what I saw. Dim light cannot hide an entire door. Or room!”

“No need to shout, I’m only trying to guide you to an air-tight hypothesis. Are you sure your mystery isn’t just because of a lack of light or perhaps a result of your lack of sleep?”

She thought back to the hall and all the times she’d been there. It wasn’t often, but it was enough to know what was there. 

Nothing. 

“No, I’m sure there is something else going on.”

“Alright…I’ll entertain it,” Daisy said, propping her head upon her hand. “Do you think it’s something sinister?”

“No,” she mused, sorting through all the possibilities in her head. “Perhaps more of a nuisance in progress but I still don’t like it.”

“Fern, it’s probably harmless.”

“I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not. I don’t want Neville involved with those fucking Weasley twins, no matter what they’re doing.”

“You’re going to smother that poor boy. They’re his friends, let him have his fun!”

Fern glared at her level-headed friend and then laid back onto her bed in a huff.

“We’ll see.”


	2. Eight Inches

Fern woke the next morning to her roommate’s frantic reminders about class. She groaned, peeling herself from the warm navy sheets, and joined Daisy, getting ready for the full day of arbitrary, seemingly endless classes. 

It wasn’t that she was bad at school as far as grades and accomplishments went, but rather, she felt like she’d never really caught her stride. Even now, in her last year of school, there was no rhythm. She was always running around like a chicken with its head cut off, finishing papers, apologizing to professors, and begging her peers for answers. Her brand of schoolwork had paid off, seeing as she’d got a majority of Outstanding grades on her O.W.L’s and felt relatively prepared for the N.E.W.T exam in a few months. But now that she was nearing the end of her time in school, she wondered if it would’ve been less of an effort and time commitment to just do the work as assigned in a timely fashion. 

It was noon before she had time to catch her breath and think of something other than school. Lunch was a welcome sight as she walked into the Great Hall but before she could enjoy the moment, she caught sight of her younger brother sitting alone, and her frustration and curiosity from last night were reignited. 

“Nev,” she announced, sitting down across from him.

“Fern,” he muttered in a tempered tone. 

She exhaled and rolled her eyes at his mood.

“I’m not cross at you,” she noted, eyeing him the best she could from over the book he was buried in. 

“That’s good. You’ve no reason to be.”

She stared down at the food between them. Every year the quiet, timid kid she’d had to bribe to try and make friends at school became more and more outgoing, outspoken, bold….more of a Gryffindor.

“You’re not going to tell me about last night, are you?”

“I…I already have and it’s your fault if you don’t believe me.”

“Bloody hell,” she hissed under her breath. “Fine, I believe you, are you happy now?”

He brought his book down an inch and finally made eye contact. She knew he wasn’t perceptive enough to realize she was lying, and still incredibly suspicious of him and his whereabouts but decided that it would be better to actually have some evidence before she started accusing him of anything. 

“You do?”

“Yes, yes,” she reassured him. “I’m sorry, I was just tired and annoyed that I had to do rounds.”

“Oh,” he mused, dropping his book fully. “Are you sleeping alright? I could give you some Valerian root to chew on before bed it’s…usually…Fern?”

His voice tapered off but she wasn’t even listening. Neville’s right hand, splayed out on the cover of his book, was cracked with a deep vernacular wound, still pink from a recent infliction. She stared in horror at his bloodied hand and reached across the table to seize his wrist. 

“Neville,” she hissed, harshly. 

He tried to pull away but she was faster and stronger. 

“When did this happen?”

“It’s…it’s nothing. Only one detention,” he stuttered, eyeing the rest of the table in embarrassment. “Just got unlucky s’all.”

Her angrily pounding heartbeat drowned out the rest of the noise from the lunch rush. He was lying to her, _again_. Her mind raced with all the things that he could be doing out and about with the twins but seriously doubted that any of them would improve his chances at staying unharmed at the hands of Umbridge.

“I’ll give you one chance to tell me who you were with.”

Neville opened and closed his mouth as if he was trying to think of a lie or an argument before finally pressing his lips into a reserved line.

“Fern, please, they’re my friends,” he pleaded. “I know you don’t like them but—”

“Friends don’t get friends into this kind of trouble, Nev!”

“They don’t get me into anything…I’m as much a part of the trouble as they are,” he insisted, shaking off her grip and standing up to leave. 

“You can’t expect me to just let you get hurt like this if Gran knew —”

“Don’t…don’t use that against me…like you always do,” he whispered with a harsh glare. “I know what I’m doing.” 

She craned her neck to stare at him in disbelief, acutely aware of how tall he’d gotten. 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” she pleaded, taking extra care to sound less accusatory, in the hopes that he would see her as less of a threat. “I’m only trying to help.”

“No, you’re not,” he countered as harshly as he could, even though it was still relatively tame. “You hate that I am doing something without getting your permission first. I don’t need help, Fern. Just leave it alone…please.”

She squinted her eyes but remained silent, letting the not so timid boy trudge off without her ripping him to shreds. 

In all her years of knowing him, he’d never dismissed her like this. He was a sweet, shy boy who put his family above everything else. There was no way that he would hold some prank or hi-jinx to such high regard…without some kind of influence. She glanced down at the Gryffindor table and caught sight of Harry Potter leaning down to whisper something to one of the twins, who in turn, leaned across the table to repeat it to Pavarti Patil and Lavender Brown. She rolled her eyes at their obviousness. If Padma was involved, of course, her sister would be too. And if Harry was involved, then it was certainly no good at all. 

The weather for the rest of the afternoon and evening mimicked her mood. The rain of late fall was neither refreshing nor relaxing. It smelled of winter, and brought with it, frozen winds and only a taste of what was to come in the winter months. 

Fern pressed her forehead to one of the tall windows in the Ravenclaw common room and contemplated how much the near-freezing droplets would hurt her bare skin. It was coming down pretty hard so there was a good chance it’d leave her burning, but no doubt, she’d catch a nasty cold. She glanced away from the moonlit grounds down below and failed at taking interest in the abandoned book in her lap. Despite trying, she hadn’t been able to tear her thoughts from the interaction with Neville from earlier in the day. He’d never really been a serious boy, even when they were little, but today, he’d been uncharacteristically stern. It’d been enough to make her at least consider that the right thing to do would be to accept his wishes and leave him alone but the image of his bloodied hand was making her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in over his head. He had a habit of being blind to the obviousness of his circumstance and acting without plan or consideration of pros and cons. Some called it bravery, and his house prided themselves on being collectively blind, but she knew what it was - stupidity. She’d never understood the appreciation that others had for the first person willing to risk their neck despite the risk.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the glass again. It was sharp, cold, and just enough to bring her sense to life for a few seconds. The minimal chatter around her in the darkened common room disappeared beneath the roaring storm outside. She wanted to go and stake out the seventh-floor hallway. Admittedly, it was overbearing, and would probably instigate more problems between her and Neville than answers but she couldn’t fight off the feeling. Before she could find her common sense, her feet were moving towards the tower exit. 

The castle thundered underneath the storm and drowned out her footsteps on the moving staircase. She held her breath as she entered the seventh floor and walked swiftly against the stone wall to stay hidden. For a touch more secrecy, and perhaps a flair for the dramatics, she extinguished the fireplace, and torches with a flick of her hand and waited in the shadows. 

It was nearly half an hour later when she sunk to the floor and sat on the cold, dark floor and an hour after that when she nearly gave up. 

There was no sign of anyone, until, she heard the faintest sound of a door closing somewhere behind the stone pillar to her right. She held her breath and listened to the lumbering steps as they came around the corner, again, from the direction of the astronomy towner. She smirked as the thunder reminded her that Astronomy was an impossible excuse tonight.

What happened next was the convergence of three terrible things at once. 

She revealed herself from the shadows and came face to face with Fred Weasley, who looked surprised by her presence for a mere second before looking decidedly more put out by something over her head. 

She turned to see what was more important than her obvious gotcha moment but her excitement turned to despair as a pink figure stood at the top of the steps. Umbridge waved her hand, igniting the hallway to reveal her standing a little too close to the troublesome twin. She knew how it looked before Umbridge even opened her mouth.

“Boys and girls are to be more than eight inches apart,” she giggled. “Ms. Longbottom…Mr. Weasley, I am sure that you’re aware of this rule.”

She frantically glanced at Fred in hopes that he would tell the truth but he took a step closer and snaked his arm around her waist.

“Eight inches, professor,” he cooed, pulling her tight. “How’d you know?”

Fern’s eyes went wide at his obvious attempt to anger the already unhinged woman. 

“No, professor,” she hissed, pushing him off of her. “It isn’t like that —”

The woman clicked her tongue and held up a hand to silence her. 

“Detention for the both of you,” she warned, oozing with pep.

She turned her head frantically to Fred again who was looking quite content with a wicked smile on his face. 

“Professor, please,” she pleaded, trying to make it sound like less of a beg. 

“Enough,” the woman shrieked. “Detention tomorrow evening. Now, off you go.”

Without another word, the woman disappeared back down the stairs. She stared at the doorway in shock before wheeling around to confront Fred. 

“Godric that woman…Ah well, what’s another one, right, Longbottom?”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Another one? I’ve never had a detention before, you prick. Let alone, one of Umbridge’s.”

“Oh, well it’s not so bad,” he assured her, bringing a hand out of his pocket. “There’s a bit of scarring but it doesn’t hurt for too long.”

She looked down at his hand and let the air be sucked out of her lungs. It was the same writing as Nevilles. 

“I’m not upset about the pain you imbecile, I’m upset because I have to go in the first place and it’s your fault!”

He leaned against the pillar next to them and stared down at her with a curious look on his face. 

“My fault?”

“Yes, your fault,” she hissed. “Like always.” Of course, he would deny it, she thought. 

Her accusatory words seemed to have the smallest effect on him as he rolled his eyes and scoffed at her. 

“How?”

“Who else’s fault could it possibly be, Weasley?”

“Oh, marvelous question, here’s a thought, and it is just a first draft theory so do be gentle, but yourself? You were out frolicking, just like me, and therefore, bound to get caught with or without me,” he explained through gritted teeth. 

She shook her head and gave him a look of disbelief. They might have gotten off if he hadn’t felt the urge to be such a smart ass, how could he not see that?

“I was not frolicking,” she huffed. “The only reason I’m even up here is that I have to make sure that you, don’t corrupt my brother. Thusly, _your_ fault.”

“I’m corrupting your brother,” he repeated in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“This might shock you but he is perfectly capable of getting into trouble all on his own.”

“Only because he’s been hanging around the likes of you for far too long!”

He squinted his eyes at her and leaned forward. She wouldn’t let him use his size to intimidate her so she stayed put and furrowed her brow back. 

“The likes of me? What is wrong with you?”

“ _You_ think there’s something wrong with _me_?”

Fred scoffed and tipped his head back, closing his eyes in the process. “I think there are a whole lot of things wrong with you, love.”

“Don’t fucking call me that. I’m not one of your dumb fucking groupies, waiting patiently to be reduced to a pet name for your pleasure,” she hissed, plunging a finger into his muscular chest. “Refer to me by my fucking name or don’t refer to me at all, asshole.”

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled, returning the look of anger to his face. “Alright, I’m terribly sorry. Let me rephrase that. I think there are too many things wrong with you to count, let alone fix, _Fern_.”

“That’s big talk for a self-absorbed sociopath with pyromaniac tendencies and a severe maturity deficit!”

He looked caught off guard and brought his face down close to hers again. She stared back defiantly and let him search her eyes. 

“Wow,” he breathed after a moment of silence. 

“Wow, what? Too many big words for you? Was poor little Freddie too focused on his tricks to pick up any comprehension skills at school? Do you need me to dumb it down?”

“If you insist, since dumb seems to come so easy for you,” he retorted. 

She let out a groan of frustration and dug her finger in deeper. 

“You are maddening! At least I’ve got two brain cells to rub together. Your head is probably filled with fuck-all!”

Her voice bounced around the hallway as she stared at a wide-eyed Fred. She thought for a moment that’d she’d made a dent in his ego but his lips pulled up into an amused smirk. Her temper was usually a little more dependable than this but it was too late to go back now. 

“My head,” he repeated with a smile. “Hm…I’m more curious about _your_ head.”

“You’re a bastard,” she hissed, ignoring the heat radiating off of her face. He always reverted to perversion to throw her off guard, and unfortunately, it always worked. 

“Normally you’d be right but this time, I dare say that you started it.”

She glared at him and shook her head. He wasn’t meant to be enjoying this. She’d hurled her best at him and it hadn’t even hurt him in the slightest. Her brain told her to walk away but she stayed planted in place.

“Well, now I’m ending it. Yelling at you isn’t worth the strain on my throat,” she exclaimed.

His eyes flickered with even more amusement as the words left her tongue. She could’ve screamed with frustration when she realized what she’d said. 

“Fern, darling,” he cooed, leaning down further into her bubble. “I’d be more than happy to provide some strain on your throat. Just say the word.”

“Fuck you.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he sighed, shaking his head. “A high-strung, good girl like you shouldn’t have such a colorful vocabulary.”

“My choice of words is no concern of yours,” she blurted, internally cringing as she sounded like a child having a tantrum. It was difficult to admit to herself, but it seemed as though he had the upper hand. 

“Well I didn’t hear a single curse in that,” he cooed, smirking devilishly. “Go on, don’t be shy now, please continue your onslaught of obscenities. I’m a big boy, so I can take it, not like the posh blokes of Ravenclaw.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You don’t get to talk down on anyone and you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I’m not, Fern, if you were as perceptive as you pretend to be, you’d have realized that I’m asking nicely. Can you do that for me, love?”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” she hissed, pressing her whole hand against his chest to keep him at a distance. 

“There it is. Anything else, darling?”

“You’re a prick.”

He threw his head back in a laugh. “You sure I’m not a _fucking_ prick?”

His tone made her blood boil. How had getting detention come to this? How had she let him weasel his way underneath her skin? She momentarily thought of the wand in her pocket but knew that he’d be falser than that. 

“So now you’re making fun of me?”

“No, I’ve just always found you very curious,” he said, leaning into her hand. “Tell me something, Fern. Are curse words the only improper thing you do? Is everything else pressed skirts and studies? Do nasty words fill the void that a life without excitement has left you with?”

She looked at him like he’d slapped her straight across the face. This conversation was going to get her no closer to figuring out the Neville mystery, but now it didn’t matter. She was going to finish her feud with the intolerable twin, showing him once and for all, she was not a woman to be reckoned with.

“For fucks sake, how do you stand yourself? The melodramatic attitude must be exhausting. A life without excitement? That’s really what you want to go with?”

“I call it as I see it,” he barked confidently with a smile. 

She couldn’t believe that he was actually lecturing her about the philosophy of life when he had next to nothing figured out. 

“So, what, to lead a life worth living I’m supposed to torture my peers without a care in the world? I’d hardly call being a nuisance to everyone I come in contact with, exciting.”

A flicker of anger crossed his face. She tried not to make it intimidate her but he caught her wrist and yanked her hand away, pinning it to her shoulder. 

“At least it’s something,” he growled. 

“Yeah, a thorn in everyone’s side!”

His damn of self-control broke and he shook her arm violently. 

“Then you’re a fucking raincloud! Godric, how do you not see that you suck the life out of every room you’re in? At least I break even with smiles but you? You’re basically a Umbridge in training with your prim and proper attitude and delusions of order! It’s fucking boring! YOU are fucking boring and I — “

Without another thought, she closed her eyes, brought her other hand back, balled in into a fist, and swung. 

She felt her knuckles make contact with his ridiculously shaped nose and opened her eyes in time to see his eyes ablaze with anger. 

“Fucking, shit,” he bellowed. “Ow!”

“How’s that for boring?” She yelled at his scrunched face. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The words tipped her over the edge and she slung her fist at him again, this time catching his arm. It barely seemed enough to catch his attention so she let it all out. Every frustration, fear, anger; came out in punches, kicks, and slaps, all aimed at the very tall redhead who had his back up against the pillar. 

“You’re fucking mental,” he roared, seizing both of her wrists and turning them around so that she had her back to the stone.

“Fuck you,” she yelled. 

“Stop kicking me you wretch of a woman, bloody hell!”

“You can’t hurt my feelings, dumb fuck,” she bellowed back, as he yanked her wrists above her head so that she couldn’t break free and used his weight to stop her from moving. “There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already said to myself a million times.” 

The words registered in her mind the same moment they escaped her mouth. It was the truth, but she’d never said it out loud or even acknowledged it herself. She did in fact sling evil sentiments at the abyss in her self but for some odd reason, they’d never made a dent. Fred’s words, however, didn’t hurt in the slightest. On the contrary really; they ignited her.

He snarled at her words and held her still. Her heart beat so fast she thought she might pass out. She met his eyes finally and watched him digest what she’d said. He looked surprised. She couldn’t blame him of course, she hadn’t ever meant to say it out loud, let alone to someone she hated. She expected him to drop her, and leave because of the suddenly serious, uncomfortable topic of conversation but his face did something she didn’t expect. He moved closer with a look of curiosity.

“Go on, try,” she whispered, daring him despite her nerves. “I know you want to. I give you detentions, I confiscate your products, I target the rest of your family too because you’re all fucking annoying —”

“Fuck you,” he hissed.

“Fuck you too.”

He glanced down at her lips as she spoke and held her tighter. 

“You’re a fucking bitch,” he whispered, eyeing her with wary. 

She threw her head back into a sharp cackle. “Is that all you’ve got?”

He snarled at her flippant attitude and brought one hand down to hold her throat while the other kept her hands above her head, scraping her knuckles against the stone in glorious agony. 

“Shut the fuck up you insufferable, uptight swot,” he purred angrily. 

Her eyes went wide and she saw a flash of regret cross his face. 

“Bloody hell…I…” he stammered, easing up on her restraints. 

“What else,” she croaked from beneath his grip. The words, his seething presence, and the painful embrace pumped adrenaline into her veins and an inexplicable hunger into her throat. The thought of him fighting off hatred to be close to her set her chest ablaze.

His eyes snapped back to hers. She was daring him, goading him, perhaps even begging him to continue. It was dramatic but she thought that she might die if he stopped now. 

“I’ve always thought that you were an evil bitch, you know that?”

“I know,” she whispered. His chest rose and fell rapidly making his breath heating her face with every puff.

“But now,” he murmured low and slow, increasing the pressure against her throat. “I think you’re desperate.”

Her eyes went wide and he inched closer.

“A needy, desperate, good girl…with a dirty fucking mouth.”

“Yes,” she moaned. 

His eyes went wide again, clearly surprised by her sensual reaction but he didn’t move away. 

“Bloody hell,” he whispered. “You like this, don’t you?”

He didn’t give her a chance to answer and pressed himself up against her with a force that made her spread her legs to make room for his extended knee. It brushed against her gloriously, fanning the flames that were already ablaze. She could see the same soft unexpected look in him that she felt herself. He hadn’t known that he would like it either. Just as she wondered if he was feeling an ounce of what she was, she felt growth in his pants.

“You like it….so you’re a fucking whore, too. Aren’t you?”

She whimpered and slid down the wall a little until she could press harder against the rough material of his pants. 

“Aren’t you,” he whispered again, bringing his thumb up from her neck, and teasing her bottom lip. “A fucking whore.”

She opened her mouth in response and let him slide his finger up her tongue and back out, smearing her lips with spit. 

“Yes, yes…fuck,” she whispered. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunted, gripping her chin so that she had to tilt her head further back to look up at him. “I don’t want to hear that word from your mouth ever again.”

She swallowed hard. He looked down at her with a serious look but his eyes were on fire. She glanced down at his neck, practically panting from the sight of his veins bulging from anger.

“Good girls don’t curse. Do they,” he asked forcefully. “Look at me when I’m fucking talking to you.”

She snapped her eyes back up to his and slowly shook her head. 

“No,” she sighed. 

“Stop. Talking,” he hissed. “Let me rephrase that since you’re such a fucking now it all. 

_My_ good girl doesn’t curse. Does she…Fern?”

All she could do was whimper and shake her head as he slowly released her chin. It was incredible. The words seemed to pour out of him as if he’d been planning them and scratched each itch that she’d ever had.

“Good answer,” he moaned, reaching over to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “She’s mine. So I get to tell her what to do with her pretty little mouth…pretty little throat…and pretty little cunt.”

Ferns eyes blew wide open at the last bit of the sentence and she realized that she’d been grinding against him with helpless desperation. The realization felt like a shot to the head and the fantasy was broken. 

The hallway appeared behind him; they were still very much in public. Fred came into view as himself again, and not a domineering figure to fuck all of her troubles away. She bristled, acutely aware of his forceful grip. She pulled away from his grip with all her might, causing him to stumble backward. His eyebrows shot up at the movement and he released her not a second later, backing away equally as shocked that they were still in the school.

She leaned against the stone trying to catch her breath, and find her footing again as they stared at each other. Fred Weasley had called her many things in the past, and she guessed that maybe they’d always stoked the fire in her chest but this was…something else. She could tell that if she didn’t leave now, it’d become an incurable hunger, which she could not afford, especially with him. 

“Fuck…Fern….I’m sorry I —”

“Stop,” she whispered, talking a step around him, towards the moving staircase. “Just…stop.”

“Fern,” he said, matching her stride, trying to catch up. “I’m sorry —I didn’t mean —I thought that —”

“Just stop,” she bellowed, halting him with her voice. “I…I have to go.”

He looked at her, stunned, and disheveled but didn’t move another inch as she made it to the door and took one last look at him before sprinting down the stairs. 


End file.
